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A Midwest Story
Here is my Story…
This story begins in a small South Dakota town back in the late 1980s, of a small child I was in a home where the mother worked full-time and the dad working many jobs during this time. With my mom working like that and my dad with no work stability, there was plenty of time for my abuse to take place. My dad physically, verbally, emotionally & sexually abused me for years off and on. From the age of being a baby up until age 6 or 7, I really cannot remember anything, but if I did it was not at home, but I do have memories from school.
Now to continue from age 6 or 7, around this age I can remember I did not like myself and wanted happiness within my life. Also around this time I think the divorce of my parents was beginning to evolve, which created a lot of discord for a child dealing with the trauma of the abusive years. I think of this age is when my dad moved out and spending a lot more time at daycare. During the time of being in daycare I saw many kids in diapers and laughing while having fun and when taken care of, so I wanted that happiness and fun in life. Soon the desires within me became more and more over time, like in weeks.
Having these needs/desires within me growing, I became more curious with diapers, so I tried one on when I went to the bathroom, since they were in the same room as they changed the diapers in. This daycare kept the used/dry and unused diapers in, so as I pretended to go to the bathroom and having the door closed, I would put on the diaper and my pants over them. Over time the workers noticed diapers disappearing more and more. Many times I wish they would diaper me too, but they refused to do so. The diaper taking went on for a few years, by age 10 they did not want me there anymore, so I ended up staying at home alone.
Now going home after school as to daycare, I was becoming very rebellious which could have been fueled by suppressed anger towards my mom without taking care of the abuse taken place and/or feeling the freedom of acting out and not having a dad severely punish you. Also with my behavior of this sort I was taken to a psychologist that specialized in children, well at that time is when my mom became aware that abuse has happened to us. For a period of time my mom was ok with my diaper wearing of baby diapers and did not know about adult ones.
Around the age of 11 or so I became a part of a group that was for developmentally disadvantaged kids/teens, As a part of this group, I had a (female) case worker, which changed several times over the time of having female ones, it was either because I was purposely driving them away much as possible and/or there was something going on in their own lives. There was one female who I connected to well, but she was only a temporary case worker and it was one I opened up to about my diaper wearing. Also with being in this group I met someone else that had to wear diapers because of his handicap. Seeing the diapers he had on at time, made me want to go find the adult ones, well I did and I found Depends at one of the stores.
By age 13 or so I was done with that group because of how the program was changing or something from what I remember. Now entering the times of becoming a teen, there was really no one around to talk to or who I wanted to really talk to that would really understand what I am going through, which what a real dad was supposed to do, well he was gone from 1992 when the divorce was final. Another thing I really do not understand of the mindset of a guy that helps bring a child into the world and simply walk away and never have any contact in any way for years, but the women on the page or whatever he did was more important than the love for me. Still to this day I wish he was still alive to ask him one question, WHY, but on the other hand I am glad that sick son of a bitch is dead, so he cannot hurt anyone else of any age and gender. Thinking back, what did my mom see in such piece of shit asshole?
Now with the changes happening to me I developed a sexually attachment to diapers, which I think came from the loneliness of my social life and the pain and hurt from my abusive childhood, which grew as time went on with no one really to talk to again and understand me where I was at with things of being a teen. This pain, hurt and being outcasted by others just pushed me a lot more of being closed up of expressing my feeling and thoughts. When someone tried to get near to hear me, I would lash out in anger to drive them away, which is what happened majority of the time. Of doing that so much, it became routine to really show me what is really real and pretend, also to protect me from being hurt over and over by others, even if it was something small, like a simple lie.
At age 16, April 30th 1999, is when I got the news my dad died, I was so happy and pissed at the same time, with being so overwhelmed with emotion I had to run again in the physical and mental sense, but I went a lot further in the mental sense. Of the situation of his body, he could not have an open casket, but I did not give a shit, I wanted to see that sick son of bitch to have some closure, but everyone else wanted him turned in ashes. Since that time to now I still wish we buried someone else and he is really still walking around somewhere so I can beat his ass but also ask him WHY.
Moving on to of me becoming the age of 19, I finally move out on my own, since I could not handle it with my stepdad moving in on my life and with him moving in my mom was not there for me, even though she was told by me to slow it down and it is too much for me, she went ahead and went with it. Now with him coming in and my mom unavailable to help me, along with everyone else not really there for me, I developed the double life; good church boy and the sinful freak at my place. Going on with life like this began to go deeper within my void of mixed emotions and thoughts.
In my mind I had no sense of what is really good/normal for guy my age to be doing with my life, but in my mind during that time I thought everything was managing fine. To give you an idea of how lost I was with reality, I was turning into a drug addict and my diapers were my drug, I knew where, when, how much, what kind and who. Also I knew how to hide it from others and I would give up anything at any cost to get them, buy them as to getting food when I had none. So I can admit I was diaper addict back then.
The addiction continued to grow more, which lead to a life lived that was out of control in all means, so I went into so called “re-hab” for problems I had. When I entered into treatment I hated it, of being totally open of exposing all my hurt and pain to total strangers in a group setting. Of being in treatment for two years of working on a lot of issues and discovering more about myself inside of whom me is and who I was in all of these years. At the end of the two years, I can say I worked hard of changing a lot of thinking and choices, but strangely enough I did not want it to end. Still to this day I still carry what I learned and living it.
This story begins in a small South Dakota town back in the late 1980s, of a small child I was in a home where the mother worked full-time and the dad working many jobs during this time. With my mom working like that and my dad with no work stability, there was plenty of time for my abuse to take place. My dad physically, verbally, emotionally & sexually abused me for years off and on. From the age of being a baby up until age 6 or 7, I really cannot remember anything, but if I did it was not at home, but I do have memories from school.
Now to continue from age 6 or 7, around this age I can remember I did not like myself and wanted happiness within my life. Also around this time I think the divorce of my parents was beginning to evolve, which created a lot of discord for a child dealing with the trauma of the abusive years. I think of this age is when my dad moved out and spending a lot more time at daycare. During the time of being in daycare I saw many kids in diapers and laughing while having fun and when taken care of, so I wanted that happiness and fun in life. Soon the desires within me became more and more over time, like in weeks.
Having these needs/desires within me growing, I became more curious with diapers, so I tried one on when I went to the bathroom, since they were in the same room as they changed the diapers in. This daycare kept the used/dry and unused diapers in, so as I pretended to go to the bathroom and having the door closed, I would put on the diaper and my pants over them. Over time the workers noticed diapers disappearing more and more. Many times I wish they would diaper me too, but they refused to do so. The diaper taking went on for a few years, by age 10 they did not want me there anymore, so I ended up staying at home alone.
Now going home after school as to daycare, I was becoming very rebellious which could have been fueled by suppressed anger towards my mom without taking care of the abuse taken place and/or feeling the freedom of acting out and not having a dad severely punish you. Also with my behavior of this sort I was taken to a psychologist that specialized in children, well at that time is when my mom became aware that abuse has happened to us. For a period of time my mom was ok with my diaper wearing of baby diapers and did not know about adult ones.
Around the age of 11 or so I became a part of a group that was for developmentally disadvantaged kids/teens, As a part of this group, I had a (female) case worker, which changed several times over the time of having female ones, it was either because I was purposely driving them away much as possible and/or there was something going on in their own lives. There was one female who I connected to well, but she was only a temporary case worker and it was one I opened up to about my diaper wearing. Also with being in this group I met someone else that had to wear diapers because of his handicap. Seeing the diapers he had on at time, made me want to go find the adult ones, well I did and I found Depends at one of the stores.
By age 13 or so I was done with that group because of how the program was changing or something from what I remember. Now entering the times of becoming a teen, there was really no one around to talk to or who I wanted to really talk to that would really understand what I am going through, which what a real dad was supposed to do, well he was gone from 1992 when the divorce was final. Another thing I really do not understand of the mindset of a guy that helps bring a child into the world and simply walk away and never have any contact in any way for years, but the women on the page or whatever he did was more important than the love for me. Still to this day I wish he was still alive to ask him one question, WHY, but on the other hand I am glad that sick son of a bitch is dead, so he cannot hurt anyone else of any age and gender. Thinking back, what did my mom see in such piece of shit asshole?
Now with the changes happening to me I developed a sexually attachment to diapers, which I think came from the loneliness of my social life and the pain and hurt from my abusive childhood, which grew as time went on with no one really to talk to again and understand me where I was at with things of being a teen. This pain, hurt and being outcasted by others just pushed me a lot more of being closed up of expressing my feeling and thoughts. When someone tried to get near to hear me, I would lash out in anger to drive them away, which is what happened majority of the time. Of doing that so much, it became routine to really show me what is really real and pretend, also to protect me from being hurt over and over by others, even if it was something small, like a simple lie.
At age 16, April 30th 1999, is when I got the news my dad died, I was so happy and pissed at the same time, with being so overwhelmed with emotion I had to run again in the physical and mental sense, but I went a lot further in the mental sense. Of the situation of his body, he could not have an open casket, but I did not give a shit, I wanted to see that sick son of bitch to have some closure, but everyone else wanted him turned in ashes. Since that time to now I still wish we buried someone else and he is really still walking around somewhere so I can beat his ass but also ask him WHY.
Moving on to of me becoming the age of 19, I finally move out on my own, since I could not handle it with my stepdad moving in on my life and with him moving in my mom was not there for me, even though she was told by me to slow it down and it is too much for me, she went ahead and went with it. Now with him coming in and my mom unavailable to help me, along with everyone else not really there for me, I developed the double life; good church boy and the sinful freak at my place. Going on with life like this began to go deeper within my void of mixed emotions and thoughts.
In my mind I had no sense of what is really good/normal for guy my age to be doing with my life, but in my mind during that time I thought everything was managing fine. To give you an idea of how lost I was with reality, I was turning into a drug addict and my diapers were my drug, I knew where, when, how much, what kind and who. Also I knew how to hide it from others and I would give up anything at any cost to get them, buy them as to getting food when I had none. So I can admit I was diaper addict back then.
The addiction continued to grow more, which lead to a life lived that was out of control in all means, so I went into so called “re-hab” for problems I had. When I entered into treatment I hated it, of being totally open of exposing all my hurt and pain to total strangers in a group setting. Of being in treatment for two years of working on a lot of issues and discovering more about myself inside of whom me is and who I was in all of these years. At the end of the two years, I can say I worked hard of changing a lot of thinking and choices, but strangely enough I did not want it to end. Still to this day I still carry what I learned and living it.